The Found
by I'm-not-ok
Summary: Hermione has been searching for years after Harry's disappearance.Has she found him now in New York? But what will Harry do to her?


_I see you everyday,_

_You're wilting away,_

_Before my very eyes._

_Day by day_

_Your petals shrivel and die,_

_Yet inside I know you cry._

The moon shone bravely through the thick fog of the night sky. The sky, an angry black, bore down. Encompassing everything below in darkness. A lone figure all in black strode uneasily down the street. The figure wore all black attire. A tight t-shirt hugged his muscular frame with leather pants covering his legs. The figure had messy black hair covering his eyes. His cheekbones were sculpted and narrowed down into pouty, slightly feminine lips. Around him, the houses glittered merrily, invited him into the warmth he had never known. He kept on walking, ignorant to his surroundings. Around him, the streets became messier. The amount of people grew. The smell became worse. Until he found himself in a street full of nightclubs and restaurants.

He stepped into a dingy alley way tucked away between two buildings, one a nightclub and the other an adult shop. The smell of human faeces and rotten garbage invaded his nasal passages until he was sure he could taste it in the back of his throat. He continued onwards on his journey. Around his feet he could feel the movement of unknown vermin. Around him the alleyway was filled with noise from a club but also the constant murmur of a dealer and his clients. Of which he was one. Still he continued. It was a path well used by him and others like him.

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From inside his tight, black leather pants he pulled out a metal box filled with, 'His special medicine.' He fiddled with the packet and rolled it into a piece of paper. He licked it before handling it between his fingers. He lit the spliff before placing it between his parted lips. He inhaled, closing his eyes in reverent ecstasy.

"Man, this is some fucking good shit." He sighed; smoke pouring out of his mouth.

With his eyes shut he could block out the hardships, the pain around him that constantly raided the depth of his mind. With his eyes closed he couldn't see the dank, dirty alleyway that he stood in. With his eyes closed he could block the smell of garbage and piss that pervaded his senses. With his eyes closed he could imagine a better place.

Around him the beats of the club inside thrilled up his legs. The music winding its way up his spine, coursing through his body at breakneck speed. Slowly he opened his eyes, glazed over in euphoria. Before him he could see a prostitute. Bleach blond hair mussed, thick makeup smudged, miniskirt barely past her thighs and dull blue eyes, staring at him. She was a person of the night, just as he was.

She motioned to his hand. She stepped forward to receive the spliff at his assent. She brought it up to her lips and slowly took a drag. He watched her face for the nirvana it would give her. As she slowly finished the spliff, he could see her starting to relax. He knew the drug was seeping into her, calming her. He had been there many times.

She took her final drag and crushed the spliff under her thigh high boots. Her eyes took on a predatory gleam and stepped towards his muscular form. He knew what was going on, he wasn't naïve, even in his state. She wound her arms around his broad shoulders, leaning on to him for support. She brought her face up to his and kissed him. There was no love between them, or even like. Merely attraction drawing them together. Lust poured into their bodies, swallowing them whole, lost in a torrent of passion. They were unaware of the world around them, only consumed by each other. He felt nothing for the woman kissing him so. He was dead inside. He felt her pull back and he allowed her to. She pulled him along the road, leading him to God knows where and he willingly followed. The drugs in him were hazing his conscience. All he knew was that he wanted to be warm again. Feel intimacy again. And he needed to get rid of the throbbing.

So concentrated was he that he didn't notice a third figure following his retreating back.

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Hermione had seen Harry before. Brief glances… maybe it was all in her mind. He had left London five years before without a trace. Not contacting anyone, never leaving an explanation. Just gone. She had spent too many years looking for him and now she had found him in the seediest part of New York. Just her luck! Just as she was going to give up searching for him. Just as her hope had diminished she found him. She was in New York was a last ditch attempt to find him. Her last chance to ever know if he was okay and she had finally found him! Practically having sex on the pavement with a stranger no less!

_Get away from him you evil bitch!_

She just could not believe this! She had wasted five years looking for HER BEST FRIEND. She had had many sleepless nights wondering, worrying about his welfare. But she could see that he had been doing fine – with _that cow! _Her only family left since the war and he was soliciting sex from a bitch like that. Anger bubbled through her; made stronger by the alcohol she had consumed that night. She stalked over to the pair who had stopped once again to grope each other

She practically ran at them and tore the two _lovers_ apart.

"Mione" He grinned at her cheekily.

"You!" … Just UH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" She stormed.

"I spend five FUCKING years looking for you and where do I find you? With some goddamn whore!"

"You know what! Calm the _fuck_ down! I am just not up to this _shit _tonight!"

He noticed that his _companion _had disappeared and he was still _bothered._

"Oh! You're not fucking up to it? You know what? I don't a give a fuck what you think! I have spent the last five _fucking_ years looking for you and I want to _fucking _talk!"

"You know what? I didn't ask you to go look for me and _I don't need you_."

Hermione was beyond hurt. What had happened to the sweet, kind, generous Harry she had known? She had wasted five years of her life looking for that Harry.

"Fuck this bullshit. I'm leaving." Harry announced, turning his back on her.

The hell he would! She wasn't going to quit now! Not now he was with her.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She asked running to keep up with his strides.

"Where do you think? I'm going home."

"What about me?"

"What _about_ you?"

"Look. Whether you like it or not I was and still am you best friend. Ron and I have searched for years for any signs of you. I… we just want you back."

"Whatever."

He turned his back to Hermione, effectively dissing her. She watched his back, muscles flexing as moved. Hermione raged after him, anger boiling over the surface of her not so calm exterior. A growl cam from her throat and she rushed over to his retreating figure. Legs running to keep up with his large strides. Hermione, granted with a sudden burst of unnatural strength, grabbed his forearm forcefully.

"Do _not_ walk away from me Har… Uh!"

Hermione reeled in shocked. She found herself stuck between two walls. One of bricks and another of flesh and bones. Her eyes which ones held righteous fury and indignation against the man pinning her down now widened in shock. Green eyes blazed down at her own. His face was close. Too close to her own. She could feel his warm tickling breath dancing across her face. It was the she realised - he reeked. He smelled she realised, eyes widening further, of marijuana!

"Harry," She squeaked, her throat tightening. She could not breathe with him so close.

"Harry," she tried again, "I think you should let go of me _right now."_

Harry merely smirked at her words. He pressed his body closer to hers. She stiffened. He lowered his head. She stared down wards. He nuzzled her neck. She could not refuse.

The drugs muddled his head. He thought nothing of consequences. All that mattered was the feeling now. The soft, lily fragranced hair, the smooth creamy skin, the satin eyelashes that fluttered across his face like a butterfly perching on a sweet scented stargazer (1). He heard her mewl, felt her body melt under his and he felt himself desiring her. She was extraordinary. But he could not, would not allow himself to feel for her.

Hermione was confused. She had never felt this way before but what had happened?

Weren't they fighting just a few minutes before? Thought flashed through her head but she could not comprehend them. She could not focus when he was doing such exquisite things to her? Why he hadn't even tried to kiss her yet she felt flushed all over. Heat spread through her body warming her. What was happening? She was never like this. His had had not moved their positions. One at her shoulder to hold her down another at the back of her head to prevent her from hitting her head or maybe it was to guide her? But at that moment she knew they would have to stop.

Hermione would have told him to stop, if it weren't for the fact that at that precise moment Harry lifted his head. She stared into his eyes. They were unfocused and hazy. Just as she opened her mouth to speak to him, he kissed her.

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**A/N Y'all know the drill. Harry Potter doesn't belong to me and never will.**

**This is only a two part thing. Watch and wait (if you want) for the next instalment…**

**Also (1) A stargazer is a type of lily which, of course, is a flower.**


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